A venture a look up at the screen — he’s shocked. And speechless.
“Anyway, it’s been tough.”
“I’m so sorry, Gabriella,” he finally manages. “You don’t deserve that.”
“I know. I haven’t been completely innocent myself, I know, but I ended things between us when I thought it was going too far.” I can barely look at him — every time I do, I’m filled with want. I still want him.
He nods. “I know. You were good. You did the right thing.”
“I always do the right thing.”
“I know,” he says quietly, and his gaze is fixed to mine — his eyes seem darker, and his voice softer. A long silence threatens to make the conversation uncomfortable.
“I want to see you,” I blurt out. My heart is pounding, and I can barely breathe. “I want to come and see you in Copenhagen. For a week, maybe.”
His eyes darken. “Oh…”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry. You’ve probably got a lot going on. You don’t wanna see me—”
“It’s not that… it’s just, I don’t want to be in the middle of…” He inches closer, and his flawless face fills my screen. “You’re hurt, and you’re not thinking straight.”
My chest caves in. He doesn’t want me. This was just a fun on-line flirtation. He thinks I’m a bored crazy housewife. I’ve been such a fool.
“I know, I’m stupid,” I say. “Sorry I bothered you—”
“No, no. Don’t you dare,” he snaps. “Don’t you dare end this call. We need to talk.”
I let out a sigh. “About what?!”
A slow smile curves his lips, and I completely melt. “Well, first off, I’d love to have you visit,” he says. “We could have so much fun.”
I smile like a kid at an amusement park.
“But I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. I don’t want to be a pawn in your marriage games, Gabriella. I like you too much for that. And I don’t want you to do this just because you’re mad at your husband.”
I nod. “I know…”
“I want you to think this over for a few weeks, and then if you still want to visit, I’ll be glad to have you. I love having people over. My sister comes to visit about once a year.”
I’m so excited, I feel like I might burst, but I desperately try to contain my excitement. I clear my throat. “That sounds like a good plan. My friend, Corrie, says that Copenhagen is an amazing city, and it’s one of the few places in the world I haven’t had a chance to see.”
He smiles. “I think you would love it.”
“Yes, I think I will,” I say, and catch myself. “I mean, I think I would.”
“And if you decide to come, I’ll be the perfect host, and gentleman.”
Darn.
“Sounds great.”
Chapter Twenty
THE VIEW OUTSIDE THE WINDOW is grey and drab, kind of like my thoughts. Although, the restaurant is quite nice and cozy; an old renovated Victorian home with brick covered walls and stain glass windows, dark flooring and antique chairs, crisp white table linens. It’s very quiet since it’s a Tuesday night — there’s just us two out in the sunroom. John and I need to talk, and a quiet restaurant is the perfect place. We’ve specifically requested a secluded spot.
The server is friendly but doesn’t hover too much. We’ve selected our appetizers and entrées. And we’re both nursing glasses of wine. White for me and red for him.
“You’re good with Italian,” he asks.
